Things You Never Heard
by She Who Loves Pineapples
Summary: You never were ahead of me by more than a step.
1. You Again

**A/N: Information from this story may contradict information from HeartGold and SoulSilver. I came up with and wrote parts of this story in 2006, and like it the way it was in my mind back then. Besides, I haven't played through those games yet. **

**  
This chapter is rather incoherent. At this point in the story, so is Silver. He is not fully aware of the difference between what he's saying out loud and what he's just thinking, either, and that remains throughout the story. Use context clues. **

**I'm using Japanese names because I think believe in respecting the names that the original creators gave their creations, and also because I have this weird autistic-ish kind of thing that ever since I was, like, six, the concept of name changing has just irritated me to no end. It just gets under my skin. I have no idea why. And no offense to autistic people and I have no idea if that phenomenon is common among them or anything. Anyway.**

**And also, I listed Gold/ Ethan/Hibiki/ as character 2 because he makes the most sense to list, but this story was intentionally designed so that the second person could be any of the protagonists. So let it be whoever you want. **

**Anyway… enjoy the fic. :D **

So it is you. I thought I recognized your voice from the stupid interviews that are always playing on the Pokémon Center TV's. How funny it is that I always run into you. But I don't feel like talking to you right now. What would I be able to say?

I can't call you a weakling, because you're the fricking Champion and I'm not.

I can't call you pathetic, because you've succeeded at every tiny goal you've even remotely desired, and I live alone in a cave.

I can't call you stupid, because you've known all along what I just can't learn.

But I can't call you strong because you've only accomplished what you've accomplished because you live in a world where cotton candy grows on trees and the ground raises itself to make it easier for you to step on it.

I hate you.

You are training your Miniryu, I see. Togechick is perched on your head watching. All your other Pokémon must be too high-leveled for Miniryu because you're picking on random Zubat instead of having your Pokémon spar. It's not really a fair fight for the Zubat. I don't get it. You're supposed to be the pinnacle of moral perfection, but attacking wild, weak Pokémon in mass amounts was always something I associated with my old ways. Back when I was bad.

But…

Oh, yeah. I still am bad, aren't I?

Can't you stop reminding me of everything I've ruined, for once? I kick the ground.

"Who's there!?" You spin around, alarmed, and see me.

I hate you.

"Silver!?" You question. "Is that you?"

Of course it is. Who else hates you?

"Dude... what are you doing here?"

I live here, stupid.

You blink. "Here? In the cave?"

That's what I said, isn't it?

Your face is slightly hidden by the dark but I can see that you're a little incredulous. "Um... oh. Well, what's up, then? You wanna battle or something?"

No.

"Ya sure? No offense, but you look like you need to blow off a little steam."

I said no, idiot.

"OK, OK. Sorry. Just asking. Err... is it just me, or are you acting a little more evil than usual?"

What am I supposed to say to that idiotic comment?

"I mean, I know you've never exactly been a cuddly teddy bear, but you look like you want to kill someone right now."

I glare at you, but you don't look scared at all. Your eyes almost soften and you clear your throat, off-handedly recalling your Miniryu back to its Poké Ball.

"Look. Sorry," you say. "I was just being a jerk. All wittiness aside... what I was trying to ask was, are you OK?"

I can't say yes because I'm not, I can't say no because that would mean I want your sympathy.

You take a few steps towards me and I fold my arms across my chest.

"Geez... look at you. You're, like... nothing but skin and bones. And you're covered in dirt." You raise your eyes so they level with mine. "Something really bad happened, didn't it?"

Don't you dare start that with me. I've seen the way you act on TV and I know you're a hypocrite and you don't care about ANYONE but yourself. Well, maybe your Pokémon, too.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

No. I hate you. I hate you. And you BETTER take a step back right now and leave me alone or I'll -

"It might make you feel better!"

You can NOT make me feel better!

And I am clutching your collar, yanking you. You gasp in fear. And then I thrust you. You gasp as you fall, and then you land and pebbles scatter.

I told you I don't want to talk about it.

Now do you believe me?

_Champion_?

Um, Champion?

Your Togechick is about you use Metronome on me.

We're in a cave.

That's not in anyone's best interest right now, genius.

Champion?

Champion? Champion? I drop to my knees and shake your shoulders. Wake up! Don't you dare mess with me you stupid weakling because I _know _I didn't push you that hard. Champion?

Champion!

You don't get up.

-

Don't get me wrong, I still hate you. But I can't just knock you out and leave you to bleed alone. I have that much decency, at least. Though I wonder if you would do the same for me.

So. Yeah. This is my crevice. The one little corner of the world I can go to that doesn't spit me back out. And honestly I'm starting to regret ever bringing you here. You don't _need_ a crevice. You have the whole fricking universe already! Now you're taking up space in _my _crevice, too. And you probably don't even appreciate it. You're probably going to wake up in a few minutes and start complaining about the cold or something. And then you'll leave and go home to your happy family and million friends and tell them that you got kidnapped by a weirdo who lives in a cave. You have such a stupid pathetic storytelling complex it makes me want to destroy every TV that shows interviews with you.

I hate watching your interviews. You sound so unbelievably _phony _it makes me embarrassed to even know you. Someone asks you for advice and you're like,"Never give up!" Because, of course, just because _you _managed to get everything you ever wanted, totally means that _everyone else _can have whatever they want. And if they don't have everything you have, they just didn't try hard enough. It makes me sick how you think you're so much better than everyone else that way. Has it ever occurred to you that some people might have tried just as hard as you did, and had _bad luck_?

And the same goes for everything else you say. You think you're so wise, but you don't even know what you're talking about. "Do your best!" "Be yourself!" "Friends are the most important thing!" It's like you absorb all these quotes from self-help books and children's programs, and just spit them out at random. And that's why I don't want to "talk about" my problems with you. Because when you said, "Talk about it!" it was just a sample of your inspiring-quotes collection and you didn't want to hear a thing I had to say. Maybe you wanted me to talk, but you didn't want to _listen_; you just wanted to spew another quote at me and then go on your way thinking about how cool it was of you to be so kind to a hopeless wreck like me.

I know how you are.

Hmph. If you were awake right now you'd be denying it. Your eyes would widen and your mouth would drop in protest, and correct me in a hurt voice, "But Silver, that's not true! I'm sorry you feel that way, but I _do _mean the things I say, and I really _do _want to help you feel better!"

And maybe I would have believed you.

Except I already fell for that. And I'm not going to fall for it again.

You probably wonder what I'm talking about. I'll tell you. I'm talking about that time in the Team Rocket base in Chōji Town. I was taking them on for my own reasons and happened to bump into you as well. Because of course you had to show up and wipe them out yourself. Of course you had to be the hero.

Did you know that by the time you got there, I'd already wiped out half the base on my own? The better half of the base, I'll add. Those grunts you were taking out were my leftovers. Anyway. I was taking a short rest when I happened to run into your pink-haired friend Wataru. He asked what I was doing there - the idiot had the nerve to mistake me for a Team Rocket member at first. We ended up in a battle. I lost. Of course I did - all of my Pokémon had lost at least half of their health from fighting the endless amount of Rocket Grunts that popped out of nowhere every time I walked by a statue. Anyway. He beat me at an advantage and gave me a speech about how I needed to treat my Pokémon with love and trust. He was right of course. I'll admit that now. But this isn't about him. This is about you.

I crossed paths with you a few minutes later. I was pretty ticked off from losing, and ticked off from Wataru's lecture. I took it out on you. And while I was yelling at you, your eyes widened. You cocked your head, listening to me. And you said something I never expected you to say.

"I'm sorry."

And I glared at you. What was that supposed to mean?

"Look, Silver. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot," you said. "But neither of us is the enemy here. We both came here to stop Team Rocket. So can we just... call it a truce? Partner up for now?"

I considered it. You'd caught me off guard. But I finally shook my head.

"No," I answered. "I don't know why the frick you're here, but as for me, I have a personal score to settle with Team Rocket. I don't need anyone tagging along. So just leave me alone."

I meant what I said - I didn't want you weighing me down and stealing my victory from me. But at that moment I began to wonder why I hated you so much. You really hadn't done anything to me. You gave my name to the cops, but that could be forgiven. You were a stupid small-town kid who'd probably been raised on safety videos that told you police were your friends and you probably never knew any better than to tell the cops whatever they wanted to know. So, whatever. I didn't have to like you, but there wasn't any real reason to be so mean. Maybe we could have a truce. Maybe.

"Well, all right then, Silver," you said, sounding almost disappointed.

I ran past you. Wataru had left my team in awful condition. I intended to go to the Pokémon Center and run back to finish the team off, but by the time I returned, they were already gone and their generator had been shut down. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. I'd lost my chance.

Stupid pink-haired freak.

As I began to walk back towards the exit, I overheard voices coming from the other side of the wall. I paused to listen. It was you and Wataru, chatting away.

"I wonder what happened to that red-haired boy," Wataru said.

You scoffed. "Silver? Why do you care?"

My heart began to pound.

"I'm worried about him," Wataru said. "He needs to learn to treat his Pokémon with kindness."

"Worried!" You exclaimed, almost laughing. "Don't. Trust me, I _know _Silver. He's such a freak! He'll start acting violent if you so much as say hi to him. Worry about his _Pokémon_. _He _could get eaten by an Ursaring for all I care."

And that's why I know better than to trust you with anything.

Now, don't get me wrong and don't feel guilty and don't start apologizing. You didn't hurt my feelings. You didn't even surprise me - I learned long ago that no other being would care if I got eaten by an Ursaring. It just made me mad. There you were, being a hero, liberating Pokémon and saving the world or whatever you were doing - and you couldn't even admit that you were just as finicky and hateful and _human_ as those Rockets you fought. And the way you talked about me - "I _know_ Silver_." _I mean, _what? _No, you don't _know _me! You've probably spent thirty collective minutes with me. Not including right now. Considering you're unconscious and all.

_Talk about it, _you said. Are you sure? 'Cause I'll assure you, I - unlike you - have a lot to say. But I - unlike you - don't have multitudes of paparazzi and fans that want to listen. No one wants to hear about an _almost _champion who _almost _defeated Team Rocket and _almost _saw the legendary beasts sleep. Hmph.

Talk about it? Fine. I'll talk about it. Isn't that what I'm already doing, anyway? I'll admit it: I am human. And somewhere inside me there is a natural human longing to be recognized as who I am. My brain knows that telling you anything about me would be foolish because you don't give a darn, but I do wish you would know. That's what it's like to be invisible. You probably don't know that feeling. The feeling that you can walk out on the street, and no matter how many people you see, you'll never find someone who knows you. You just get the urge to see someone and grab them by the collar and scream at them, "I have a name! Remember me!"

Talking. I do miss talking. I never did it very much. But I did talk to my Pokémon every night, back when they were with me. Not all of them understood everything that I said, but I think they listened anyway. They listened just because they knew I needed them to. How can you ask for a better friend than that? Someone who will listen to you even if they can't understand. I miss them so much. Words can't even describe how much I miss them, and how sorry I am for ruining it all.

Why shouldn't I talk to you? I'll talk. I'll talk because I'm a pathetic wreck and I need to talk, and because you're here to talk at. Of course you'd probably laugh your head off if you listened to the things I'm about to say. Or maybe you'd realize what a hypocrite you were and feel guilty about it your whole life and _I'd _be the one to laugh. Or maybe you'd just nod your head and say, "I see" and then retell one of my stories in one of your interviews and attach a stupid life lesson to it so it would appear in an inspirational documentary.

But there's no use in maybes. Because you're _not_ listening. You're unconscious. And by the time you wake up, you'll forget me just like everyone else did. And everything I've told you will become just as void in your mind as something you never even heard.


	2. This Crevice

**A/N: It's been forever since I first posted this. To anyone who read the first chapter and waited for an update, I'm sorry it's taken so long!**

**I took the moronic (coughghettocough) bullies from my school and made them into Rocket Grunts for this fanfic. That's why most of the grunts have non-Japanese names.**

**No, I don't think that Athena/Ariana is Silver's mom. At least she's not for this fic.**

**This chapter doesn't have Champion in it very much. The story is really supposed to be Silver's autobiography… so, sorry to anyone who liked the first chapter because they like the relationship between the rival and the protagonist… but this story isn't completely focused on that. (Champion will have a bigger role in other chapters though.)**

**Sorry if I'm rambling; it's time for bed. I really need to stop posting fanfiction chapters before bed; I get too nervous about what people will think and then I can't sleep… and one more thing. **

**I like to use Japanese names for human characters and Pokémon. Name changing ticks me off. But anyway, reviewers of my other fanfic were asking me to make a glossary when using lesser-known Japanese names, so here.**

**Koiking: Magikarp**

**Pippi: Cleafairy**

So you're probably wondering how I got this crevice. It's a long story. But I'll talk about it. I got this crevice because my father sent me to live on this mountain. I'll get this out there right away: my father is Sakaki. Yes, _that _Sakaki. The former leader of Team Pathetic. Hmph. Are you shocked? You shouldn't be – after all, you "know me." Isn't that right? Heh.

I was going to talk about the crevice, but you probably don't care. You're probably wondering what it was like to have the leader of Team Rocket as a father. Well, I didn't see much of him. He spent all his time in his room doing "secret" things. He spent just enough time with me to successfully indoctrinate my young mind. While you were listening to bedtime stories, my father was teaching me about his plans for world domination.

He was nuts. He had all kinds of crazy ideas in his head, like capturing Mew – as if Mew exists – and cloning it to create the ultimate weapon. And what would he do when he created it? Gain power over all the weaklings. In his opinion, weaklings were any Pokémon who couldn't battle well, or any human who had a weak Pokémon. Or anyone who actually had a conscience. He wanted to eliminate them because he hated them. Never mind the fact that weak Pokémon – like Koiking – grow into strong Pokémon, like Gyarados. Or the fact that weak Pokémon – like Caterpie – are an essential food source for strong Pokémon – like Pigeot. He just liked to go on about how weaklings were just a drain on the strong, always getting in the way.

I hate him. I didn't hate him then, but now that I know how crazy he was, I hate him. I don't even hate him just because he was crazy. I hate him because he was crazy and influential. He spewed out all those lies at me and I _believed _him; I never even _questioned. _If I did question him he'd give me this look, like I was the most clueless person in the world. I couldn't stand that look. So I stopped listening to my doubts. I started to just absorb all his lies like a sponge and then, like a sponge, dump it out on others. At school I was always getting in trouble for talking about how the weak deserved to die. The teachers called my father more than once, and he would flat-out deny that he had ever told me any of it, and then he'd punish me for getting in trouble at school. I didn't understand. I was so confused. I was so weak back then…

It wasn't just me though. There were a whole lot of people who listened to him without question. Team Rocket. They had to listen to him; he paid their wages. Maybe that's how he forgot that he was a flawed – a horribly, disgustingly flawed – human being. With everyone sucking up to you all the time, most people would forget. That could explain how _you _got so full of yourself, Champion. Maybe if Team Rocket hadn't split up before I could inherit it, it would have happened to me, too.

I wish I could find him. I wish I could defeat him. Prove to him that he was wrong about me. About everything. And then I'd kill him. I wouldn't shed a tear.

After I'd been expelled from too many elementary schools for fighting and bigotry, my father decided that signing me up for them just wasn't useful anymore. He didn't believe in schools, anyway. He claimed they taught the wrong things. The only reason I was even there was because he needed someone to watch me all day, and so when Team Rocket started its fossil excavation project in Mt. Moon, he decided to send me there along with his Grunts.

I hate Grunts. I hate all of Team Rocket, but the Grunts are the worst. If there was a list of the most pathetic people to ever walk the planet, everyone at the top would be a Rocket Grunt. They complain. They start drama. They fight. Most of them have no idea what Team Rocket is even about; they just follow my father's orders and pick up a paycheck. They're cruel, and stupid, and they gang up together for no reason other than to look big. If you catch them alone, they won't be so tough. But I didn't learn that lesson soon enough.

My father left me officially in the care of a red-haired Rocket Grunt called Athena, probably because she was the only female around at the time. If he thought Athena would be a good nurturer, he was grossly mistaken. The minute my father looked away she turned towards her little Rocket Grunt friends and loudly whined, "Why does he expect _me _to take care of his little brat?"

The grunts who hung out with her erupted in laughter, the cocky kind that comes at someone else's expense. "I always thought you'd make a good mommy!" one of them jeered.

"Stop it, morons!" She swung a fist at them and they ducked and ran, still laughing. I watched her chase after them. I looked into the unfamiliar, high-up faces, overwhelmed by their loudness. These people would be raising me for the next few months.

As the boss's son and future heir to Team Rocket, I was technically the superior to these Grunts. Even if that wasn't so, I was supposed to be their future boss, and should have gotten some respect for it. Unfortunately, Rocket Grunts have no foresight. Whenever my father stopped by to supervise the Rocket Grunts' activities, Athena would be the nicest person to me in the world. Any other time, she was either hazing me to the point of child abuse, or ignoring me completely. Just like all the Grunts did. Some of them treated me like their own personal tool, threatening to beat me up if I didn't do them favors like passing notes or bringing them their shovels. Others beat me up just for fun. Some of the "nicer" Grunts merely observed these activities, lecturing their friends on their cruelty even as they laughed along. It didn't matter how actively they participated; I hated all of them.

When I could get away from the Rocket Grunts, I spent my time waiting in the secret entrance that the Rockets used to get in and out of the cave, planning my escape. I could climb up out of the tunnel and onto the surface of Mt. Moon, then climb down from there and find my way back to Viridian City. I could live in my father's Gym; there was always plenty of food there even if the Leader never was. When my father returned to it, I would tell him what the Rocket Grunts had done to me. Then he wouldn't make me go back. And he would punish Athena and the others who bullied me. Then they'd be sorry.

The only problem was that the exit wasn't easy to reach. It was blocked by a boulder three times my size. To escape, you had to have a Pokémon move it, and then climb up and out of the cave. Not even most of the Grunts had a Pokémon strong enough.

I hated that boulder. I can't even tell you how much time I spent trying to shove it away. One time I even head-butted it. It was impossible, but I guess I just didn't know when to give up.

One day I awoke by that exit to find myself surrounded by a cluster of mumbling Rockets. Light was pouring down from the top; the boulder had been moved. A blue-haired man I did not recognize was dangling from the entrance. He dropped down and landed on his feet.

Always the bossy type, Athena stepped forward. "You the new guy?"

"Yes." The man saluted. "My name is Noshio."

"You have your uniform yet?" demanded Athena.

"Yes," Noshio said stiffly.

"Put it on," she ordered.

"Right away." Immediately the man dropped to his knees and began ruffling through his backpack.

A few Grunts snickered. "Why're you listening to her?" one of them criticized. "She's not the boss!"

"Yeah, but she's crazy as the Boss!" another jeered.

"Don't make fun of your boss!" I ordered, but the Grunts ignored me.

The newbie, Noshio, was slipping his uniform shirt on over his T-shirt. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "I needed to put on my uniform anyway."

Somehow those two soft sentences commanded everyone's attention. He had just learned that Athena was not the boss, and yet he continued to speak politely. Rocket Grunts did not speak to each other politely. What an anomaly. Noshio himself didn't seem to notice that everybody's first impression of him had gone from neutral to disapproving. His eyes flickered over the crowd of co-workers. People began to introduce themselves or shuffle away.

I was one of them who shuffled away. The emergency exit was too crowded with Grunts to sleep. That was pretty much the only thing I did, sleep all day. And I hated sleeping when Grunts were around. Not only did they find it particularly amusing to bother me when I was asleep, but their voices would bore into my head, fading in and out like a static-ridden radio station. Stupid, noisy Grunts.

"Why is there… a little kid here?"

I spun around and glared at the newcomer. "I'm not _little_. I'm _seven_."

The grunts didn't hear me, or they ignored me. Indignant, but powerless, I stormed away. And yet I couldn't help but listen to their voices behind me.

"That's Sakaki's brat."

"What's his name?"

A lot of confusion and mumbling. A lot of Rockets didn't know my name because they all called me "Sakaki's brat." Finally someone said, "Silver."

"Silver, eh? He's pretty scrawny and mangy-looking."

One day I was sitting against the cave wall and watching as identical pairs of boots shuffled past me. The grunts were going to lunch. I didn't eat with them. They were savages when it came to food; they even literally climbed over each other to get to it. They would have murdered me if I'd been there. My only hope was to go to lunch early, before the madness set in. But I'd been asleep, and now it was too late.

One pair of boots stopped. The other pairs pushed against or navigated around it. I looked up.

The newbie, Noshio, had stopped in front of me and bent over with his hands on his knees.

"You're little Silver, right?" he asked pleasantly.

I scowled. "I'm your superior. Call me Boss Silver."

He just laughed. "I'm Noshio. Nice to meet you, Silver."

I hated him instantly.

For a while, that was the extent of our relationship. He'd pass me, pat me on the head, completely ignore me when I told him to show some respect for his future boss, and then be on his way. He wasn't cruel like the other grunts, but he weirded me out.

One day another group of grunts saw Noshio talking to me. "He's always talking to that little kid. What is he, a pedophile?" a grunt named Jessica questioned loudly.

Another, Charmaine, giggled. "Probably. I always knew there was _something_ weird about him… he acts nice, so he must be _some _kind of pervert… hehe."

The next time Noshio tried to talk to me, I shouted, "Leave me alone, you pedophile!"

He looked shocked. Other grunts turned to watch. Athena guffawed. "Did you hear that? Kid just called him a pedophile!" Other grunts in the background laughed and applauded, and I couldn't help but grin, proud that I had impressed them.

"S-Silver," stammered Noshio, "do you even know what _pedophile _means?"

I had no idea, but I wasn't about to admit that. "Sure I do!" I boasted. "It means a pervert – like you!"

The other grunts hooted. One called out, "He got burned!"

Noshio took a step back, flustered. "I- I'm sorry if you've misunderstood me, but I'm _not _a pedophile. I had no intention to… hurt you."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn't about to back down. "Yeah, yeah. You just keep telling yourself that. Later, pervert." Quickly I ran away before he could figure out that I didn't know what those words meant.

Noshio avoided me for a long time after that. I assumed it was because he was mad at me. The news of what I'd said circled quickly and it wasn't long before the other grunts were calling him "pedophile," too. Clearly, "pedophile" and "pervert" were very offensive words.

Of course, I know what the words mean now. And now I understand why he was avoiding me. It's kind of funny, looking back – though I feel bad that I made him another target of all the other grunts' bullying. Then again, I had it worse than he did, and it wasn't like he was ever popular in the first place.

Was I supposed to be talking about this crevice? I'll get back to it. First I want you to know a little bit more about Noshio. I don't want you to misunderstand anything.

Well, the next time he spoke to me was during lunch time one day. The Rockets were provided lunch as part of the pay; their other meals they were supposed to bring themselves. But Rockets are lazy and most of them didn't bring their other meals, so they were always hungry and always taking more than one lunch at one time. I was supposed to get a lunch every day, but I didn't. Athena was supposed to bring me breakfast and dinner, but she didn't. So I really didn't get to eat much, unless there were graham crackers. For some reason, most grunts refused to eat the graham crackers.

Noshio woke me up. "Silver, did you eat yet? Most of the lunches are gone."

Drowsy, I looked around. Grunts were crowded around the cheap table that was used to set up lunch, all complaining about the morons who took more than one. I was not about to contend with them. There were no graham crackers.

"Yes, I ate yet," I lied. "Now go away so I can go back to sleep."

The grunt shook his head. "You did not eat yet. You've been sleeping out here since lunch arrived."

I glared at him, embarrassed to have been caught lying. He _would _ask a question even though he already knew the answer. "I don't need to eat. I'm tough!"

"Wouldn't you be tougher if you ate your lunch?"

I glared. "No. It's impossible for anyone to be tougher than I am now."

He stood there for a minute, then left. "I'll be right back," he said.

He wasn't right back. By the time he came back, I was asleep again. He woke me up.

"Stop waking me up," I ordered.

He ignored me. "Sorry, Silver. By the time I got there, all of the lunches were gone. I guess some people take more than one."

I couldn't believe how stupid he was. What was he expecting?

He crouched down next to me and pulled something out of his bag. "I'm sorry you didn't get a lunch today. But I have a chocolate in my backpack. Do you want it?"

Of course I wanted it. But I didn't trust him. Why would a Rocket grunt give me anything? He'd probably ask me to do something for him later. I could not be indebted to a Rocket.

"I don't need a chocolate!" I announced loudly. "Strong men don't eat candy!"

"Oh, really?" He seemed amused for some reason. "Well then, I guess I have no use for this, either, being a strong man and all. I think I'll just drop it here." He did so, and walked off, patting my head as he passed me. "Later, Silver."

After he left, I stared at the candy for a long time. Could I eat it if he didn't give it to me? It wasn't the same as taking it from him. He'd just thrown it away, so it wouldn't mean I'd owe him anything. But maybe it was poisoned. Of _course _it was poisoned! Otherwise he wouldn't have thrown it away; he would have eaten it himself.

I heard footsteps coming closer; more grunts were approaching. They'd eat the candy if they saw it. I snatched it up and ran down the hall with it.

I heard screeching above me. Zubat. "Hey, dumb Pokémon! Eat some of this candy!" I picked off a small bit and threw it at them.

They screeched and flew away. Maybe Pokémon didn't eat chocolate. I ran and grabbed the piece I threw. It was covered in mud. I didn't care. I realized that I didn't even care if it was poisoned. Besides, the wrapper had been on it anyway, so it couldn't have been poisoned. I used this as my rationalization to eat the whole thing right then.

I did not die a horrible death from it.

The same thing happened the day after that, and then the day after. I didn't understand why he kept buying me candy just to throw it away, but I was glad he did. When he asked what happened to the candy after he threw it away, I told him Athena ate it. I always smirked when he was "dumb enough to believe me."

But that was the nature of our relationship, really. Mostly I didn't like him, but despite the fact that I had landed him with a horrible nickname, he didn't dislike me; he offered me candy. Most of the time I didn't see him though. He was always working hard to excavate fossils and I was always as far away from the excavation areas as I could be.

Until one time when there was a commotion. A mass of grunts was clustered together. Their movements were fast, excited. They were chanting, shouting ideas, daring each other.

Curious, I joined the cluster, careful not to get to get squished in the crowd. I broke through to the front, looking through the cracks in the mass of bodies to see the source of the commotion.

A ball of pink was backed against a cave wall. A Pippi. We saw them around every once-in-a-while, but they generally ran away from us. This one couldn't run; it was surrounded. It was also shivering out of terror while a Zubat attacked it from above. The Zubat darted back and forth, lunging at it. The Pippi would swat when it got close, but normally only succeeded in getting its attacker to dodge out of the way temporarily. At last the Pippi swatted with all its might, but missed and fell over. The Zubat pounced and sunk its teeth into prey.

Pippi writhed around on the ground, crying out in pain. Grunts cheered and laughed until, finally, the Pippi stopped struggling. Or so it seemed. Most of its body was still, but its hands twitched periodically – and then they were twitching faster and faster. One man shouted, "Hey! What's it doing?" – but by then it was too late. Suddenly a stream of fire shot out from its fingers, scorching the Zubat and going straight at us. We all cried out and ducked into another crevice to the side, coughing from the smoke that was produced. The flame grazed the top of one man's head, and he screamed and rolled around on the ground.

"It's using _Metronome!_" someone shouted desperately. "You know how dangerous that is in a cave!"

I stuck my head through the side. Zubat was burnt but still able to battle. It returned to darting back and forth, this time with a fury. But the Pippi had given up on trying to sway the bloodsucker and instead focused its efforts on another Metronome attack.

"It's doing it again! We have to stop it!"

"Someone go catch it before it kills us all!"

"Lewis started this – he should catch it!"

"_I _ain't gettin' near that thing!"

Tension. Everyone knew what needed to be done, but no one was willing to do it. People glanced at each other accusingly. And then someone noticed me.

"Hey!" He grabbed me by the sleeve. "Silver, you're tough, right? Go catch that Pippi!"

"Me?" I gasped. Then I realized – this was my chance. If I could catch the Pokémon that no one else would catch, they would _have _to respect me. Plus, if any of the Rockets tried to bully me again, I could just have my newly-caught Pippi shoot fire at them. _That _would shut them up.

"OK!"

Someone thrust a Poké Ball into my hands and I quickly ran back to the scene of the battle. Pippi was still waving its fingers. I took a deep breath and threw with all my might.

I missed. Badly. The Ball bounced off the cave wall and rolled. I ran back to the Grunts helplessly. "I lost the Ball!" I confessed.

"Well, go back and get it!" a man said cockily. "I'm not gonna give you another one!"

Terrified, I rushed back to the Pippi. The Ball had ended up a few feet away from it. I sprinted to it, grabbed the Ball, aimed it at the Pippi, and gasped. Its fingers were waving at lightning speed.

I screamed and threw the Ball with all my might. But I was too late. Just as the Ball was opening to ensnare the pink Pokémon, I felt the earth shake beneath me and heard a loud _boom_! Before I could turn my head towards the source of the noise, I had been knocked to the ground and pinned down by falling rocks.

Rocks fell around me like rain. "Help!" I shrieked, but no one came. More crashing.

"What did it _use_! Explosion!"

"No. Magnitude."

"Earthquake! That was totally _Earthquake_!"

"Did that kid _die_?"

That was the last thing I heard before I passed out.

I was in this crevice when I woke up. Noshio was there, kneeling over me.

"Noshio?" I asked weakly. I realized I couldn't move. Even breathing hurt.

"Oh, you're awake," Noshio stated. "I couldn't get a hold of your father, so I had to move you here myself. This place is quiet and out-of-the-way, so hopefully everyone else will leave you alone."

"Did I break my leg?"

He grimaced. "Y-yes. Your leg and a few fingers. But I can heal them. I went to a medical high school and all…"

He made a crappy doctor. He had to make a cast out of cloth He didn't have very good pain killers; all they did was knock me out so I could feel the pain in my dreams. When I was a awake he told me stories and things. If I was feeling lively enough, I'd interject them with a seven-year-old's attempt at witty commentary, but usually I was too doped up to speak.

Thus this crevice became "my spot." Even once I healed, I came to spend most of my days in here. I slept in this crevice, ate in this crevice, and I amused myself by chasing the Zubat outside this crevice.

Noshio came to visit every once-in-a-while during lunch break. He'd started bringing lunch for me and he continued to bring me candy bars. I'd long since stopped pretending that I thought I was "too tough" to eat them. I still never understood his motives, though.

One day I asked him. "Noshio, why do you always bring me candy bars? Is it because you want me to make you an admin when I become the boss someday?"

"No. That's not the reason." He was quiet for a long time before continuing. "I have a kid about your age who loves candy bars. I don't get to see my family very much, so I always carry around a bag of candy bars so I can share them when I get home. But right now, I think you need the calories more."

I didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. His answer pissed me off. Come to think of it, everything he said pissed me off. I know that you're probably puzzled at that; here's this benevolent guy who gives me candy bars and I don't even appreciate him. Think what you want about it, but I can be pissed off it I want to.

I wasn't always yelling at him, though. Sometimes I did try to get along with him. I just… wasn't ever really good at showing feelings of appreciation.

"Noshio," I said one day, "I have something to confess to you."

"What is it?"

"I, um… I know you're not a pedophile. I never really thought you were."

He just laughed and said, "I know you didn't." It pissed me off.

I really got on a tangent there. I don't know why I keep talking about Noshio. I've just been thinking about him a lot lately. I wonder what happened to him, after, I mean… never mind. I was just never sure what to make of him. I'm still not.

There is something about him that reminds me of you, though – or something about you that reminds me of him. I'm not really sure how to put it into words, though. Maybe your ability to be nice without actually giving a crap.

And I guess I'm doing the same thing that you do – being nice without caring. 'Cause it was nice of me to bring you here. But I don't really care. Part of me wants to think that I'm a good enough person to care about you, but I know I'm not. Because you've been unconscious for a really long time, and it's starting to seem unhealthy. If I cared about you, I would have taken you to a hospital by now.

But I don't care, and I'm tired. Good-night. Or something.


	3. This Slimy Thing

**Author's Note: Well, hi. Shorter update time for a much shorter chapter this time.**

**For some reason I hate this chapter. It'll probably take me a year to stop hating it. **

**By the way, Silver has no idea how to take care of an unconscious person. If Silver does something stupid, it's his stupidity, not mine.**

**Insert obligatory comment on the new games. "Lulz can't wait 'til my White Version shows up in the mail!" **

**I bet no one's reading fanfic for anything but Black and White right now. GOOD TIME TO UPDATE, SELF. **

**Enjoy the chapter.**

You're still here?

Well, good morning. If it is morning.

You've been unconscious for a long time. If I didn't hate you, I'd be worried by now.

I'm not feeling particularly guilty, though. I _know _I didn't hit you that hard. You must be sick from something else. Have you been eating enough? Are you anorexic, maybe? You really are skinny, after all. And I really wouldn't be surprised to learn that you're the type who cares way too much about appearance. That would explain why you wore such nice clothes to go training in a mountain cave.

I'm not inclined to feel sorry for you if you're starving by choice. But there remains a chance that you're not. Maybe you're just sick. Either way, you should probably eat something, because of how long you've been out.

There's a path in this cave that leads to a valley where a few berry trees grow. I picked a few and brought them here to store them. You can have some.

Is it OK to give food to an unconscious person? I'll just put one in your mouth and see what happens. Have as many as you want, I guess. I don't care. I'm not hungry anyway.

…

Hmph. I can't believe I said all of that out loud that time. I mean, about my father. I don't talk about him. I didn't want the world to know where I came from until after I proved I could rise above it. But that will never happen. I can accept that fact now. Maybe that's why I told you my secret.

Whenever I would think about my father or the Rocket grunts, I used to feel this thing rise up inside me. This slimy thing. It was so thick and real it would make me gag, but no amount of retching could make it go away. You'd probably say it was just my own anger, but it wasn't. I know the difference. When I got angry I'd scream and yell and push people around, but when the slimy thing was there I couldn't do anything. It bound me.

It made me choke on air. That's what it did.

I probably sound insane right now. But I never could shake my childhood fear that the slimy thing was an external force that had come to take over.

It doesn't come anymore, though I myself didn't scare it away. It left of its own free will. It doesn't think I'm worth terrorizing anymore. Either way, it means I'm safe.

Maybe that's another reason I can talk to you.

I didn't always blame my father for the slimy thing, though. I blamed myself. I thought I just wasn't strong enough to keep it away. I always wanted to be strong like my father.

I didn't realize back then how he was weak, too. I didn't know he was a coward.

Not even when he ran away.

I didn't believe the grunts when they started spreading rumors that he was leaving. We'd long since abandoned this mountain and moved to a secret base in Saffron City underneath the Game Corner by then, and the whispered gossip echoed in the halls. "He's gone." "It's 'cause that Red kid beat him!" "Red drove him out!" "He left us." "He quit." "He didn't even send a final paycheck!" "All our efforts as Team Rocket were for nothing!"

They bustled past me back then, ignoring me but for the sake of not tripping over me. Everyone was rushing to pack their bags and say their good-byes. I mocked them. I called them stupid.

There was no way that Red kid beat my dad.

I'd seen Red before. He was in our base running somewhere, when he stopped suddenly and met my eye. I stuck my tongue out him. He didn't say anything. He just stared at me a minute before moving on. He was just a kid with blue jeans. He had a Pikachu following him around everywhere. A _Pikachu_. He was pathetic. So why did all the grunts freak out whenever he showed up?

There was no way he'd really beat us. Even if he had, by some slight possibility, managed to defeat my father, my father could just go to a Pokémon Center, get his Pokémon healed, and then come back.

There was no way my father would abandon Team Rocket because of _Red_.

I stayed waiting in the same spot in the hall way, even as the number of Rockets in the building dwindled. I heard the grunts' voices as they passed me. Sometimes they were amused: "Are you serious? Boss didn't even take his own _son _with him when he left?" Sometimes they were annoyed: "Kid, I don't care where you go, but get out of the busy hallway!" A few of them actually expressed concern. I yelled at them defiantly, "You don't know my dad! He'll come back, you'll see! You'll all be sorry when he gets back and fires you for ditching!"

"Poor kid," they would chuckle.

When the hallway finally emptied, I curled up into a ball and pressed my head as hard as I could against my knees. My nose dripped a little bit, but I didn't cry.

The heater hummed. Music blasted from upstairs. I tried to block it all out but it was always there.

And one time, out of a sudden, footsteps. I thought that all the Rockets were gone. Dad? I lifted my head quickly.

It wasn't him. It was Noshio. He wasn't wearing a uniform, and I could tell he was surprised to see me. He ran to me like he had to tell me something urgent, but he just sat down next to me without saying anything. He stayed there a long time. He didn't leave until I fell asleep.

He was back the next day after I woke up. He'd brought sandwiches. Since food was sold in the Game Corner, most Rockets in the Saffron base weren't as inclined to take too many of the free lunches, and I'd been eating much better there than I did here, But no one had come to deliver lunch since two days ago. I inhaled the sandwich. Noshio was strangely quiet as he nibbled his own sandwich slowly.

"I've been… going around the city trying to find a new job," Noshio told me hesitantly.

I stopped eating. "Once my dad comes back, you'll be in trouble!"

"Even if… _if _your father comes back, I'll have to find a new job. I can't keep fighting for something that every part of me believes is wrong anymore," he said. "I can't keep lying to my family about what I've been doing. I can't stay here."

"He _is _coming back," I said defiantly.

"I really hope so." Noshio tossed me a candy bar.

He came back to check on me and bring me food periodically for I don't know how long. It could've been a week; it could've been a month. Every time he dropped subtle hints that he didn't think my father was coming back for me, and every time I denied it. The more I started to believe him, the more fiercely I argued against him.

And then came the day when he dropped in during the middle of the night. He woke me up. His face was red.

"I can't keep coming here anymore," he said flatly. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave."

"What happened?" I asked meekly. I'd never seen him so upset before.

"I can't – you wouldn't understand." He sounded angry, and I wondered if he was angry at me.

"Listen, Silver. I won't be here to take care of you anymore. I need you to tell me what you're going to do from here. How are you going to take care of yourself?"

"Wh-what?" I sat up. "I don't need you to take care of me anyway! I'm just here waiting for my dad!"

"What will you do if he doesn't come back?" Noshio demanded. "Because right now, that's the only outcome of this situation that I can foresee. If he was going to return, he'd have returned a long time ago. I'm sorry."

It was like a slap in the face. "You're wrong!"

"No. I'm not."

Tears threatened to escape, but I held them back. I sniffled.

He held out a hand. "Come on, Silver." His voice was gentler. "Please stop doing this to yourself. Please don't throw your life away waiting for that awful man. You're better than that. He doesn't deserve you."

I stared at his hand. It was wrinkled, calloused, and hairy. But I knew he was offering more than a hand. If I accepted it, he would have taken me with him. Taught me _his_ views of Pokémon that so differed from my father's. Changed me into something I didn't know how to be.

And I will always wonder how my life would have been if I had taken his hand at that moment.

But I didn't. I got scared. Scared to face reality. Scared of the novelty.

"No!" I screamed at him, springing to my feet. "I don't need any help from you!"

He cupped his hand against his face. "Well then," he said quietly, "I guess you've made your choice. Good luck, Silver."

I watched him run away. Even now I wonder what he was hoping to catch, and if he ever caught it.

I soaked in sweat of pure and frustration for a long time, curled in the fetal position on the hard cot, getting more and more agitated. I'd never had to make a decision like the one I'd just made. I'd never been ready to make such a decision. And yet even as I decided it, I filled with regret. When I just couldn't take it anymore, I leaped up and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I couldn't take that base anymore. I couldn't take the waiting.

I knew that my father would never come. I just didn't know how to admit it.

It was the middle of the night, and few people remained on the streets. I followed the closest source of light, an open Pokémon Center, and stuck my head in. Noshio wasn't there. He wasn't in the PokéMart, either, nor any of the houses. Noshio was gone. Father was gone. I couldn't find them. They weren't looking for me. Finally I ran back into the Pokémon Center. A large group of Trainers was crowded around a TV, and I curiously and exhaustedly paused to join them. A battle was being shown – a battle against the Champion! As a large wave crashed over the Champion's Lizardon, the footage cut off and zoomed in on the challenger's face. The stunned and elated face belonged to none other than that Red kid.

And suddenly it was then – I don't know why – that I realized Father was gone once and for all. That was the first time I felt the slimy thing. It survived off of my confusion, mostly my confusion about Father. Part of me wanted to hate him. I knew he deserved my hatred. I knew he ignored me, left me to be raised by people who hurt me, never told me the truth. And yet, part of me still admired him. He wasn't all bad. If he had been all bad, it would have been easy to hate him. The problem was that he had good things about him, too. He was strong, and influential, and smart. Between his Fossil Project and his Silph Project, he spent time with me in the hideout. He taught me how to battle with Pokémon. He let me practice battle against him with a Caterpie he loaned me against a Ratta he wanted to train, and I won sometimes, and whenever I'd win he would say, "Good job. You'll be a good Rocket Boss someday." That's what I was thinking about whenever I shouted to the grunts that he wouldn't leave. See how pathetic I was? He made a fool out of me, because I believed in him and stood up for him and he didn't even come back to prove me right. He'd forgotten me.

If Team Rocket was gone, what use was I as an heir? I understand now.

And then there was Noshio. Yeah, he was nice and he gave me candy, but at the end of the day, I was just a boy he knew. He was just trying to make me into a surrogate for his own kid. Once he "found himself", quit Team Rocket, and got to see his own family, he forgot me, too.

And the slimy thing taunted me, asking me everyday what I could have done to change things. What could have given me value as my own person? What could have made people remember me? How would I be remembered now?

I didn't want to go back to the base. I was sick of waiting. I spent my days outside learning to pickpocket. I was really bad at it at first, but I learned to watch for people falling asleep on benches and I began to notice that the best way to tell where someone's money is: it's at the place they'll periodically place their hand there to check and make sure it hasn't been stolen. The irony struck me as hilarious. It was especially hilarious on the rare occasions when, after I stole something, I coincidentally saw that person again later and witness that person in hysterics about what happened to their money, while meanwhile I'm sitting there eating the ice-cream cone I bought with it. I guess you can say I never really had any qualms about stealing. Even now I don't, honestly, though I haven't stolen in a while because I've made so much money from battles. But money goes fast. At some point I'll need to start stealing again, I guess. I never really thought about it until now. You'd better wake up soon, or I'll start with you. If I can't beat you in battle, at least I can outsmart you. Stealing kind of feels like winning sometimes.

Tch. You know the worst thing the slimy thing ever did? It told me to go up against you. Before I even met you, the slimy thing was answering its own questions about how to get revenge on the ones who left me behind. _Become a great Trainer, _it told me. _Become the Champion, just like Red. Don't let anyone win. If someone defeats you once, keep challenging him or her until victory. _ That was why I constantly challenged you. _Just keep training your Pokémon,_ it told me,_ keep getting stronger until by sheer force of will, you end up on top. _

The slimy thing got me into this mess. But at the same time, I can't hate it. If it weren't for the slimy thing, I'd never have met my beloved Pokémon. They would have been better off never having known me, but I selfishly can't help but be grateful for them, and the happiest times of my life with them by my side.

I wonder what they're doing now. I wonder if they stayed together. I wonder if they wonder what happened to me. I should have said good-bye to them, but I just couldn't trust myself to face them.

I wonder if they forgive me for all the times I hurt them. I'm not sure if I want them to or not.


End file.
